Wildest Dreams
by Lucky Strike's alter ego
Summary: The museum was dead by day but alive by night, being consumed by the chaos of all the exhibits. What if there was one more exhibit? Joan of Arc. A historic legend who resents the British and only wishes to be a normal teenage girl but is trapped within the contents of the museum. Follow the three movies from her perspective. Eventual Joan/Lancelot
1. Prologue

All she could remember was the piercing pain before it all ended. Her hands which were bound together above her head, the weight of her body as it hung from the stake, and the utter humiliation as hundreds watched. She couldn't describe all the feelings that burned inside her in that moment. Anger, hatred, and fear. Everything she felt was directed towards the British. God always encouraged people to forgive but Joan didn't know how she could forgive the ones who treated her worse than cattle. The ones that ruined her, made her weak, tortured her, and humiliated her past a point of forgiveness.

She screamed out in pain for God, hoping that by some chance he would just let her die instead of letting the British continue to smirk at her as her flesh burned. The smell filled her nostrils causing tears to stream down her face… Or what was left of it. She knew if she looked down at the flames,which danced all over her body, she would lose it so she stared into the audience full of British men, women, and children. She watched their laughter and small smirks as she was being burned alive. She decided that they were all evil, condemned to burn in hell, because how could anyone be so cruel? She never felt such hatred before but she only asked that god would forgive her.

Joan closed her eyes and tried to drown out their laughter and her own screams. Wishing for the pain to go away, she chanted a prayer in head. She tried to be a savior for France, a voice for God, but not everything was meant to be she supposed. She served her people for as long as she could and she knew someday someone else would take over. As Joan contemplated her past she began to slip into unconsciousness from all the pain. Memories of her life flashed in the darkness as she felt herself fade away.

Though she couldn't feel anything, Joan smiled softly. Everything would be alright now. There would be no more war, no more bloodshed, and no evil. There would only be love, happiness, and light because she would be accepted into God's kingdom where she would live in blissfulness with him and the angels.

Everything would be alright.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: This is a new story I've had brewing up since seeing the Night at Museum 3 trailer. Keep in mind that some of the things in here might and probably will be historically inaccurate but so is the movie. There will be a lot of British bashing in this story as well but don't be offended because it's for the sake of comedy and well the character. I personally love England and all things British(Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, Etc.) and I'll be going there for Spring break.<strong>

** I also don't own Night at the museum or any of the characters.**


	2. Chapter 1

**1967**

Everything came rushing back like one vivid explosion and when she meant everything... she meant everything. The little cottage she lived in as a child in her old village, the dirt paved paths and smell of bread from the local bakery. Her mother singing one of her lullabies as she spun the wool and her father telling her a story before bed. She saw her and her siblings running around the sheep in constant circles and her older sister's squeals of delight as her brothers grabbed her. Joan could see her first kiss from Stefan, a boy from the village, and the magical feeling she could feel in her stomach. The first memories were filled with happiness that made Joan want to smile in response.

The second batch wasn't quite as beautiful. She remembered her visions from God and the angels as well as the importance she felt receiving them. But that wasn't the least of it, she saw the cold, empty battle grounds as war raged on. She remembered the first time she killed someone, the empty look they got in their eyes while they drew their last breath. The feeling of failure and fear as the British caught her. The confusion as the grinning prison guard looked down upon her, slowly letting his eyes roam over her body. Finally… The pain and betrayal she felt as she was burned alive in front of the laughing crowd filled with the British.

Joan woke up with a gasp, her eyes shooting open, before falling forward and landing on the floor with a loud crash. She blinked, looking down at herself. She had been standing up before? Very odd. How could she have been asleep standing up? It didn't make any sense to her, none at all. Joan examined herself, noticing her clothing which also didn't make a whole lot of sense. She was wearing her battle armor only it didn't really look like her battle armor, it seemed a lot lighter than what it used to be. Joan reached up to her feel her head only to feel her hair and not the short hair she used to have. She let her hand fall down, feeling her long brown tresses that reached just below her breasts. What really got her though was how all her skin seemed to be its former creamy color, smooth and completely unburned. Not even a scratch graced her skin. This kept getting stranger and stranger.

'_What is happening?'_ She spoke in French, her first words since waking up. Without further hesitance Joan lifted herself off the floor, finding it hard even with the lighter armor on. She took a deep breath before exhaling and taking a look around the room she was in. It didn't seem like anywhere she'd been before and it certainly didn't appear to be French. She looked up at the wall and noticed a large mural with a beautiful girl painted in it. The girl was on a battlefield wearing very detailed and beautiful armor, she looked down with a crestfallen expression. She seemed sad. Joan glanced above and noticed a large plaque that read Joan of Arc. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Could that be her? There was no other Joan she knew who was nicknamed that. But how could that be her? She didn't think she was widely known enough to have a painting done of herself.

Joan gasped in surprise as she spotted her banner. It stood proud in the ground which looked to be a battlefield on a platform but didn't make much sense because it was inside a building. There was no doubt in her mind that this was for her. Her banner was a clear sign of that. She felt a rush of flattery of how she was depicted in the picture. She never thought she was that pretty but apparently she was seen as such. How kind.

She was still confused but decided if she wanted to know more she would have to leave this room. Joan turned back around and headed for what seemed to be an exit. The large entryway seemed to be open with no doors but a black kind of gate closing it off. She gazed at the gate in confusion before reaching out and pulling it apart in what seemed to be the middle. The gate easily opened even with her weak strength. Joan stepped through the now opened gate into a hallway which was illuminated. She searched for the sun, expecting to find an opening in the ceiling but found none. It slightly scared her how she didn't know where the light was coming from but Joan put those feelings aside.

"Hello there! You must be Joan of Arc. It's truly a pleasure to meet such a historic legend." Joan slowly whipped around at the voice. She knew that language all too well. English. She drew her sword and pointed it at the fellow who spoke. He was a middle aged man who wore a hat and a tan colored outfit. He also had a moustache which looked quite well kept which gave her the impression he was a man of great wealth and stature. The man also possessed a kind face, a face one could trust, but Joan knew better than to trust a kind face.

'_Stand back, you English scum!' _She yelled at the man. He stepped back in surprise holding his hands up in surrender. He chuckled nervously.

"I see that you don't speak English. That's okay, I can speak French." She glared at the man, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"I can speak English, British fool." She snapped in a heavy French accent. She was forced to learn the language when traveling through the filthy country during the war. The man laughed nervously again.

"I see! You must think I'm British! But I assure you, miss, that I am not." She narrowed her eyes, refusing to put down her sword.

"Do not think you can trick me! You speak English!" He nodded, smiling softly at her.

"I know but do I have the accent?" She frowned in response. Now that she thought about it, she didn't notice the usual annoying, nasally accent. In fact, the man seemed to not really possess any accent in particular. How odd and yet he still spoke English.

"You speak English." She repeated but sounding more unconvinced than before.

"Yes… Well, It's a long story."

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><p>It turned out to be an even longer story,funny enough. He talked her through how she had missed hundreds of years. It was now the year 1967 and much had changed from what she remembered. Of course he told her the story with her sword pointed at him the whole time until she realized he wasn't a threat. It took a while for her to believe him but once he told her about America separating from the British, speaking of them poorly, she started believing him.<p>

"Why am I just waking up now?" Teddy, she later found out was his name, sighed uncomfortably.

"It's a rather long and complicated story, I'm afraid." They were both seated on the two sided bench back inside the room she woke up in. Joan frowned, wondering what he could have meant.

"Tell me, I want to know. I woke up in this room with a mural of myself and standing in battle armor when the last thing I remember is…" She trailed off, internally shuddering at the memory of the fire.

"I just need to know." She finally said and Teddy took a deep breath.

"The best way I can put it is that the reason you didn't wake up earlier is because you weren't made earlier." Joan shot him a confused look.

"That doesn't make any sense. Made?" He nodded.

"You see, you're not really you… At least not in the day time. This room, that mural, the plaque, you, all of it is your exhibit." This didn't lessen Joan's confusion. Exhibit? What did he mean by that. Wasn't an exhibit like something for show? She remembered going to the town fair when she was a child and looking at all the exotic animals that weren't usually seen in that area. She remembered seeing snakes, wild dogs, and even a lion once. Those were the exhibits she remembered but this room?

"What?" He bit his lip.

"This is a museum, Joan. We're part of the Museum, we're the exhibit... well, you're the new exhibit but, anyway, we're the exhibit during the day but at night we're alive, we're human again." She stared at him.

"I don't know what you speak of." He sighed before getting up. He waved her over, signaling for her to follow him. So she followed the kind faced man through the many hallways and stairs of the building, passing by many strange creatures and people. She watched as a silver colored statue walked passed her, mumbling in what she thought to be Spanish but she couldn't be sure. With every person Joan passed, she started to believe Teddy more and more. They finally stopped outside a dark room with the only illumination being the gold colored walls which lit up the room with a surprising amount of color. She watched in shock as two very large dog looking creatures, that reached up to the ceiling, pointed scepters at them. Joan was in so much shock that she didn't even think to draw her sword. She expected Teddy to run away or yell out in surprise but he only looked up and smiled kindly at the creatures.

"It's okay, boys, I'm only here to show this nice young lady the tablet." He gestured to her before winking. "Newbie." The two creatures stood back at his words and let him lead Joan further into the chambers. Joan didn't know much about history or anything related with being a girl in the middle ages but she was familiar with the settings she found herself in now. She remembered being shown beautifully drawn pictures of ancient Egypt by some of the other officials during the war whenever they were bored or sought distractions. She never liked the Egyptian's belief that there was more than one God but she couldn't get mad at them for having their own beliefs.

They stopped in front of a large golden looking coffin that seemed to be shaking violently, with loud moans being heard from inside. Behind the large display of the coffin appeared to be a large stone wall with ancient writings covering it and in the middle of the wall was a large rectangular shaped golden tablet. Chunks seemed to be missing from the top and bottom but it still seemed just as mesmerizing. Teddy grinned at her, gesturing towards the golden tablet.

"This, my dear, is the answer to all your questions but also famously known as the table of Ahkmenrah." She rose a brow at this as she glanced from him to the tablet and back.

"You mean that this is the reason that everyone here comes alive at night and now me as well?" Teddy nodded.

"Yes, ever since it came here over ten years ago or so. We're not sure exactly why or how it does but it probably has something to do Egyptian magic. Everyone knows how superstitious they were but most of us are just happy to be alive again." Joan nodded slowly, still trying to comprehend this new information. A magical tablet that brought everyone to life at night. It was a little hard to believe and especially with her strong religious belief in God. Magic wasn't really a liked subject in the bible.

"If that's what's bringing everyone back to life then who is in the coffin?" Teddy nodded, sighing.

"That would be Ahkmenrah, the Pharaoh who owns the tablet. He's a little cranky at times and I believe he wants to remove himself from his coffin but the others are just so scared of him that they refuse for him to be let out." Teddy told her, shrugging at the end of the sentence. Joan nodded, beginning to adjust to this newfound information. She got that she was now a sort of exhibit at museum that came to life at night with various other historical figures. She sighed with the thought of all this knowledge. Not knowing what else to do, she decided to ask the only question that lingered in her mind.

"So… There's no British here, are there?" Teddy smiled softly, resting his hand on her back and gently leading her out of the exhibit.

"I think it's time you met Miss Anne Boleyn."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Hopefully you enjoyed the first chapter and will want to continue with the story when I update. Please give me feedback... Hopefully positive feedback. To answer any questions... Yes Joan will eventually get a love interest but not for a while.<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, guys. I really appreciate it. This chapter gets into the movie so not too much context out of the movie line. I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think.**

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><p>Joan blinked as she came out of her daytime consuming slumber. It was now night and her time to wake up. She had been used to the routine for the past almost forty years. She stepped down from the platform. She was a bit tired of the routine to be honest, every night it was the same thing over and over again. She would wake up, hang out with Teddy, somehow come across Anne Boleyn, they would get into a large argument, and then she would go back to her exhibit. She was significantly bored all the time.<p>

"Where is my favorite girl?" Called out Teddy as he strode into her exhibit on his horse, looking as proud and majestic as ever. She didn't have many friends at the museum, people considered her very… Weird but Teddy was one of the few who befriended her without any judgment. She was pretty good friends with Christopher Columbus, she even learned some Spanish though he had a hard time speaking French. They shared the same dislike for the English which is probably why they got along so well. Aside from those two, she was pretty much on her own there. She supposed everyone was on their own in the Museum, no one really got along outside their small little groups. Joan was fine with the few friends she did have but don't get her started on Anne Boleyn.

"I'm right here, Teddy." She told him. "Right where I always am." Teddy smiled at her sadly and was about to say something when they saw the Mammoth stomp past her exhibit, the floors rumbling from the weight. Joan furrowed her eyebrows at the sight before looking to Teddy.

"Should he not be locked up right about now? "Joan said, shakingly pointing her finger in its direction. Teddy sighed. "Where's Cecil and his two dimwitted followers?"

"I'm afraid they have retired. There is apparently a new night guard for the museum who also seems not to have been notified of the Museum's… Predicament."

"Oh." Joan murmured. She had forgotten about the trio of night guard's soon retirement. She never liked the three old men, she much preferred the night guard before them but they didn't exactly get to pick their night guards. She always thought the three elderly men were rather conceited and thought themselves above everyone else. They always mocked the exhibits of their downfalls and failures in cruel ways. She once watched as Cecil lit a cigarette in front of her, waving the flame from his igniter mockingly towards her. Joan always heard the small, faraway whispers of the voices in her head whenever she came across the three night guards. The voices had been gone for so long that she almost forgot what they were like. Joan never told anyone about the voices and decided that there couldn't possibly be any danger three simple minded elderly men could cause. She was glad to be rid of them now but having a new night guard who had no clue of the case of the museum also didn't seem like a good idea.

"Well who is this new night guard? Tell me his name." She told him, once coming back to reality. She put her old battle ready face on, trying to remain calm in the face of possible chaos. Teddy cleared his throat.

"I do not know, actually. I have not yet had the chance to see the new night guard myself." Joan nodded, contemplating what would happen next.

"We should look for him then." They heard loud growls, stomping, and gunfire from the third floor. The pair of historical figures looked up in alarm before looking back at each other. Joan gave him a quick nod.

"That settles it. Teddy, you go wait downstairs for him in case he decides to run out and I'll have a look upstairs." Teddy gave her a doubtful look.

"Are you completely sure about this, Joan?" Joan gave him a smile, drawing her sword from its sheath.

"Not really which kind of thrills me to be honest. Just me this time, no voices." Teddy smiled at her before she rushed out of the exhibit in search of the mysterious new night guard.

"Good luck!" Teddy called after her, she giggled. She missed this. She missed serving a purpose, not just standing around night after night. She hoped that she could find this night guard quickly and put an end to all the current chaos.

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><p>Joan let out a shaky breath as she reached the top stair finally reaching the third floor. Armor was certainly not meant to run in. Okay, focus Joan. She told herself as she searched the third floor for that iconic night guard uniform that the elderly men always wore. She narrowed her eyes as she focused in on a group of individuals dressed in torn gowns and proper yet ragged men's clothes. They were dressed in clothes from another century but certainly not her century.<p>

"Hey, so I think you guys can maybe help me. You look like friendly people and I'd just like to know what's going on." The, man in the middle of the crowd of people, said. The crowd of people looked at the man blankly with an odd look in their eyes. They drew closer before a couple of them grabbed his arm and examined it closely. Some of the others sniffed the odd man who, Joan noticed, also wore the night guard uniform she had been looking for. She had found the night guard. Another victory!

"Um… What are you guys doing? Wait! A-Are you sniffing me?" They all started tugging at his clothes, trying drag him away from each other. The night guard began to look startled before trying to squirm away from the pioneer looking people who had seemed friendly but apparently weren't. Joan decided that it was time for her to step in.

"Donner Party!" She called out and they looked at her, alarmed expressions crossing their faces. She raised her sword, pointing it at the lot of them. She didn't want to harm them, Teddy told her what the group had been through and she felt tremendous sorrow for them. But she knew that she had to be firm with them to get them to back off the new night guard.

"Leave the poor man alone this instant." She demanded, they gave her a scared expression as they eyed her sword.

"But Miss Joan," Said a small girl, stepping forward. "We're hungry." This seemed to frighten the night guard even more but Joan focused on the group of pioneers.

"That may be so but I really don't think you'd want to feast from this man. He doesn't look too… delectable now does he?" The group looked back at the man, slightly confused before nodding to themselves in agreement with her statement.

"What do we do now then?" Asked another man from the group. Joan shrugged before an idea came to her, making her smirk evilly.

"Well… I happen to know for a fact that Anne Boleyn is brushing her wretched hair this second in her own exhibit." The Donner party looked at each other before ,once again, nodding to themselves in agreement before deciding to leave and find Anne Boleyn. Joan would love to be a fly on the wall in that room but she had more pressing issues to tend to. She would probably hear all of it from a furious Anne later but not now. Joan rushed over to the shocked night guard who still looked slightly frightened at what had just occurred.

"Are you alright?" Joan asked the man. He blinked, seemingly coming away from his shocked state before focusing on her. He gave her a wide eyed look, staring down at the sword in her hand.

"Right." She quickly remembered the sword and how it could make the man nervous. She chuckled nervously before putting it back in its sheath. "But you're alright?"

"You're not going to eat me, are you?" The night guard asked, half joking and half not. Joan laughed before shaking her head.

"No I'm not, I can promise you that." He nodded, seemingly relieved. "What is your name?"

"Oh… I'm Larry Daley, I guess you can say I'm the new Night guard around here." Joan laughed again. She started walking away but waved him over to follow, he did so quickly probably worrying that another group of cannibals were going to attack him.

"Yes I know you're the new night guard. I can definitely tell from the way things are out of order in this pit of hell." He chuckled.

"Yeah… Sorry about that. This has all come as a bit of a shock to me, you know with all these exhibits being alive and giant dinosaur skeletons running around." Joan nodded.

"I'm sorry but who are you?" Larry asked her and she smiled.

"My birth name is Jeanne d'Arc but they call me Joan of Arc because it's easier to say." She said the last part in a bitter mocking voice. Joan glanced back at Larry who gave her a look of recognition, she rolled her eyes at herself. "You can just call me Joan."

"I think I remember you from History class. You were the French girl who heard the voices in your head, right?" Joan smiled sadly, nodding.

"Yes I suppose that's one way to describe me." Larry gave her a slightly puzzled expression.

"You don't really sound French though." He commented and she shrugged. It was true that Joan didn't have her distinct French accent anymore.

"I had learned English in my time during the war," She lied. "But I've improved my English during my time in the museum when I was brought here in 1967 and so much that it slowly began to fade away as the years have gone by. I hardly speak French anymore, there's no one here to speak it with."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I've grown used to the language and at least I know what everyone is saying." Larry nodded.

"Who's Anne Boleyn?" Larry asked suddenly and Joan gave him a stunned look.

"What?"

"Anne Boleyn. She's the one that you told those people to go and… eat." Joan chuckled darkly, hand on her sword's handle as if she was ready draw her sword at the mere thought of Anne Boleyn.

"Anne Boleyn is a narcissistic, selfish, lying, conniving little whore whose part of the filthy barbaric race of the English." Larry stared at the young girl with an expression of bewilderment. He was shocked that such venomous words could come from a historic legend who was known for her saintliness.

"What's wrong with British people?" Joan looked at him in disbelief, stopping in the middle of their walk.

"What's wrong with the British?! You seriously mean to tell me you don't know what's wrong with the British?" Larry shrugged.

"Yeah… I mean they came up with Harry Potter, right?" Joan swallowed, pointing a finger at the blue uniformed man.

"I don't know who this Harry Potter person is but if he's English, he's likely to be another corrupt, evil Englishmen." Ignoring the fact that she just hatefully insulted a children's character, he continued on with his questions.

"I just don't really see what's wrong with them." She scoffed.

"Wasn't it the British who invaded your beloved country not once but twice, waging war with you because they sought control over people who didn't want to be controlled like mindless buffoons not too different them? Wasn't it them whose king once separated from the Roman Catholic church just so he could marry his little whore? They are a bunch conceited, disgusting individuals who think of nothing but themselves. They are also a greedy bunch who wanted what wasn't theirs even when they already had enough. There's plenty more where that came from but I won't bore you with England's long trail of faults." Larry could tell that England was a sensitive subject for Joan so he decided to move on from it and go on to his current problem.

"Okay… Moving on, do you think you can explain all of this to me then?" He gestured to all the exhibits who were walking past them amongst their own little groups. Joan bit her lip before nodding leading him downstairs to the first floor where her little hide away was. Once she led him there, she briskly sat him down in a forceful way before walking over to the other bench behind his and sitting down. It was silent for a while before he broke it.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Joan bit her lip again until she tasted blood.

"So you're ignoring me now? I would kind of like to know what's going on. I get this job that sounds so simple but a couple hours in, everything inside this museum starts to come alive and attack me. I have the right to know why." Joan nervously shook her leg, her armor making a vibrating sound against the floor.

"Please just tell me. There has to be a reasonable explanation behind all of this." She winced knowing that there wasn't one. Joan was never good at this kind of thing, telling people things they probably didn't want to hear in a soothing, gentle way. That was Teddy's skill.

"Why are we even sitting here?" Joan sighed.

"We're waiting for someone, now it would do you some good to stay silent. They don't like loud, tall people." Even though she couldn't see Larry she could still see him sending her a look of confusion.

"What?" It was hardly another second when she heard him let out a groan of pain. Great, he had managed to get himself into even more trouble. Did chaos follow this man? It used to follow her as well so she could at least spare him of her annoyance.

"Ow!" He grunted in pain. "Ouch!" He yelled again. Joan stood up from her seat to see what exactly was going on and watched as the small men from the Aztec display were shooting darts at Larry's face.

"What are you guys doing?" He licked his lip. "I can't feel my lip."

"That's because their darts are filled with poison. It was apparently what the Aztecs were known for or at least that's what I've been told. I wasn't completely educated back then." She told him and he looked panicky. Joan rolled her eyes as he smacked his lips together, trying to get back the feeling quickly. He looked back at the group of Indians as they began preparing the darts again.

"Oh, thit." He said, trying to curse but failing. He put his hand out in front of himself to try and block the dart but that didn't work out so well either. He got up from his seat rather quickly all the while groaning in pain.

"The darts aren't deadly to you, Larry, you're much too big for them to be deadly." He didn't listen to her as he proceeded to get away from the Aztecs. Joan groaned before following him, she sent a dirty look towards the Aztecs who only gave her a sheepish look in return. Larry pulled the last of the darts out before turning his attention elsewhere. She followed his gaze to the rail road display which only made her need for Teddy increase. Come on, Teddy, where are you? He should have realized she was in trouble by now and started his search. She really wished to be free of babysitting the Night guard because it wasn't something she was good at. Their attention was then thrown back to the Aztecs as they proceeded to tie Larry's feet together, causing him to fall into the rail road display. Joan gasped in surprise.

"Yee-haw!" She heard someone call out. She rushed over and looked into the display with a worried expression. Jedidiah. She should have known better. That little man caused more trouble than a trio of barbaric English soldiers. "Hog-tie him, boys!"

"Get him!" He called out to his men who raced towards Larry on their horses, lassos in hand.

"Stop that!" Larry cried but the small men ignored him. Joan narrowed her eyes at Jedidiah, hands on her hips.

"You let that defenseless man out of there right this instant, Jedidiah." She demanded but the small blonde man only rolled his eyes.

"Or what, Miss bossy pants? Are you going to prod at me with your little sword?" She glared at him. "I don't think so. You see I don't take orders from no woman, especially a woman dressed in a tin can. Stand back, Missy, or you'll end up in here." Joan decided to just stand back and let the small band of men have their fun. There wasn't much they could do to harm Larry anyway.

"What are you doing, Joan? Help me!" Joan rolled her eyes.

"I think you'll be just fine, Larry." As soon as she told Larry that an elderly small man walked up to Larry, a small band behind him. Jedidiah smirked.

"Every night, year after year, one of you guards locks us up in these boxes!" He growled furiously. "Well, I hereby say, sir, enough!" All the men cheered in triumph as Jedidiah ordered the men to fire up the train. Joan sighed, crossing her arms and just waiting for Teddy to drop in. She blanked out as Larry and Jedidiah argued back and forth, the argument then went between them and Octavius as he got involved after Larry broke free from his restraints. She rolled her eyes. Men. It wasn't until Teddy suddenly came in and grabbed Larry, putting him on the back of horse, that she finally came back to reality.

"Come along, Joan!" Teddy yelled as he left the room, Joan shook her head before following Teddy and giving the small men her deadly glare.

"That's right. You better run, boy. You hear, Jedidiah?" Joan laughed.

"Don't be laughing, girlie! Jedidiah don't like to be laughed at by women." Joan had already left the room by the time Jedidiah had anything else to say. For a small blonde man he sure held a temper. Joan would have liked nothing more to argue with him on his perspective of women but she had already done that in her time amongst her own armies. Century after century they were still the same, the exact same.

"Men."


End file.
